Early Mornings
by squishylee
Summary: 2d thinks about them in the early morning. And he thinks and thinks and thinks. And maybe he knows what love is.


It wasn't simple. None of it was. None of it made sense. It never did.

Sometimes, 2d wanted to think it did.

He knew better than that.

When he saw Murdoc, sometimes in the early mornings, he felt like his whole body could break. He was careful not to do anything that could permit Murdoc to break his bones. But it wasn't that. It wasn't the fear.

It was just Murdoc.

Murdoc made him feel weak.

He hated it.

Noodle once told him that he was in love. She said the words Stockhelm. Shockholm. He didn't know, whatever the word was he didn't remember. Too big, too many letters.

"You love him." She muttered, eyes watching him even more so than usual.

They were outside, the cold air of November biting into their skin. 2d liked the way they put each other's feet on each other's chairs. He also liked the way Noodle painted her nails like the rainbow.

"Can you paint my toenails these colors too?" He asked, and tapped at her big red nailed toe.

Noodle scrunched her nose and pinched his pinkie toe, making him giggle. "Maybe we can get the pedicured, because I'm not painting these."

"Okay." 2d agreed and continued to stare out the balcony, taking in the cars below him, zooming. Red, black, grey, blue, the occasional yellow. The yellow card were his favorite. What was he talking about? Murdoc? Yes. Loving Murdoc. "I don't know about love. I thought I loved Paula."

Noodle has the patience of a saint, nodding along to the words 2d rolled off of his tongue, fumbling and delaying with each truth.

"But, I don't really know. Yanno? Murdoc, he confuses me. Gets me all mixed up. One minute he's hitting me upside the head. Calling me names, the next he's running his hands through my air. Calling me beautiful. Beautiful. He called me that yanno?" 2d chuckled to himself and caught Noodle's eyes, showing nothing except sympathy. He couldn't stop himself anymore. "And, and I told him once too. That I thought he was beautiful. Almos' broke my nose."

Noodle sighed and shifted her weight so 2d's legs were on her lap. "I think love is subjective. They diagnosed you with Stockholm syndrome. I think it's another word for sympathy, but I can't always say what's right and what's wrong. You and Murdoc, you guys are my family. I love you. But not in the way you love each other."

2d watched silently and her hands moved in the air. The hot breath from her mouth swirling in the air, fog. Everything was foggy. "I've known him long enough. I just don't know what it is."

"Maybe you do." Noodle replied, her smile conveying more hope than she could ever say out loud. "You know, you know what it is."

Did he?

He watched her rainbow painted toes wiggle in the cold.

"C'mon, I think the salon is still open."

That was a few weeks ago.

He stared at his rainbow toes, chipped and decaying in its own form. He remembered the way he laughed when they scrubbed the dead skin off of the heels of his feet. Or how Noodle would playfully mock the way he squeaked. He always had so much fun with her.

He put his feet in the window above his bed, hands tapping slowly on the hollow of his stomach. He could feel his ribs, showing more and more each day. His pills made his appetite disappear, Murdoc made it a point to force him to at least eat twice a day.

Murdoc wanted his singer to be healthy.

There it was again. That weak feeling. He wanted to float, he felt like floating. He's always felt that way, but now it's like everything finally tipped.

He counted the years of how long he's known Murdoc. Almost more than one third of his life. It had to mean something. Time means something.

Doesn't it?

It was 10:30 in the morning. Noodle and Russell are usually awake now, bustling in the kitchen, making a breakfast that neither 2d or Murdoc bother to eat. They still make it, though.

2d supposes that's love, right?

He didn't know anymore, maybe it's the years. He's not stupid, he knows what it all means. He just, didn't know anymore. 16 years ago, when Russell broke Murdoc's nose into the state it's in now, 2d felt like his bones would crush.

There was a loud pounding of the door, enough for 2d to not want to open it. He squeezed his eyes shut.

The door squeaked open.

"Hey, dents."

His voice was gravelly and hard and everything that felt familiar. It seeped into him, and he opened his eyes. "Hey, Murdoc."

Murdoc leant over the the bed and ran his hands through 2d's hair. It was damp and stuck to his forehead, but he didn't care. Murdoc looked quite beautiful in the dim light of the room, he smelled clean yet smoky.

2d sat up and assessed the bassist. "why do you always smoke after taking a shower?"

"Why do you always question my actions when you know it's none of your business?" Murdoc bit back and flicked 2d's forehead hard.

"I was just askin." He muttered and then Murdoc was on top of him, straddling him, all warmth and skin and heat.

2d kissed him. He kissed him and he kissed him until his lips felt raw. His hands were on the dips of Murdoc's hips, and in the nape of his neck. This was what it was. Flying, he felt like flying-

Suddenly, Murdoc pulled his lips away and instead leaned into 2d's ear. "Hurry and get dressed okay?"

2d nodded, and closed his eyes, letting Murdoc kiss his cheek softly. Soft. It was so soft.

Murdoc got up and left, closing the door afterwards.

That. Was that it? Yes, he knew. He loved Murdoc. And maybe, Murdoc loved him. Even if it was only early in the mornings.


End file.
